IT'S SO FLUFFY!
by krzed
Summary: Assorted ficlets and drabbles posted under #mlflufffiction. All fluff, all the time.
1. Ladynoir: Gimme Kiss

Adrien thought that once he and Ladybug finally revealed their identities to each other, that he'd be the one with his head in her lap, getting pats and scratches and all sorts of affection. He was a lap cat, after all. What he didn't expect was Marinette– _Marinette who sat right behind him in class god he was so blind!–_ to be the lap cat. He also didn't expect to enjoy showering his lady with love and adoration and...

Okay, he totally expected that.

This is what brought Ladybug and Chat Noir to the top of the Eiffel Tower just after midnight. He sat with his back against a a steel beam, his legs splayed out before him, eyes gazing out at the city yet focusing on nothing. Ladybug laid down perpendicular to him with her head in his lap and her hands folded over her stomach, her eyes closed. The only movements the pair registered were the steady rise and fall of Ladybug's chest and the slow, methodical movements of Chat's fingers through her hair, his claws lightly scratching her scalp, a sensation she admitted soothed her. The only other time either of them moved was when Ladybug would swat at Chat's hand if he tried to play with her pigtails.

This was perfect. This was bliss. He had his princess; she had her knight. He couldn't ask for anything to make this moment better. He didn't think anything _could_ make this moment better.

Until...

"Chat," Ladybug whispered.

"Yes, m'Lady?" he hummed as he lowered his eyes to hers.

She looked up at him, eyes shimmering. Then, she brought her hands up beside her face, waggled her fingers, and said, "Gimme kiss."

Chat sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before smiling and leaning over. When her waving fingers brushed the sides of his face, she reached around to the back of his head and pulled him the rest of the way. His lips found hers, a gentle, short, and warm. Nothing like the impassioned, desperate encounters they'd had before. Just simple, innocent kiss. Chat pulled away and found himself chuckling, a sound which seemed to annoy his Lady.

"What's so funny?" The crinkle of her nose and the quirk of lips only served to make Chat laugh louder and deeper.

"M'Lady," he snickered. "You're...you're so _cute_!"

"Yeah," she pouted, "and what's so funny about that?"

"It's just..." He scratched at the back of his head. "Mari, I've always pictured Ladybug as some stoic badass, but here you are being so...so damn adorable!"

She crossed her arms and glared up at him. "You saying I can't be 'badass' and 'adorable' at the same time?"

He waved a hand at her. "No, no, not at all! It's...meshing Ladybug and Marinette together in my head is taking some time, and seeing you act so much like Marinette with the mask on is just so..."

"Weird?"

"Not weird. There's not really a word for it. I guess," he shifted his legs, wary of Ladybug's head, "it reminds me that you're still a person. It reminds me that you're more than the spots and the earrings; that I fell for the girl, not the mask."

"That Marinette is the adorable badass, not Ladybug?"

He nodded, the giggles returning. "Yes you are, Princess." She smiled and her head returned to his lap as his claws wound their way back through her hair.

"Yes you are."


	2. Marichat: Laser Focus

The camera zoomed out. Howl and Sophie shared a kiss, and Howl's newly rebuilt castle flew into the distance. Chat Noir sniffed back a few tears.

"So," he started, voice still trembling. "What did you think?"

Marinette nodded. "It was good." She clicked her computer mouse and the video froze. "My Neighbor Totoro is still better."

His eyes grew wide. "Wha?" He gestured both hands towards her monitor. "Howl's Moving Castle is a freaking masterpiece!"

"It's anime Beauty and the Beast," she dismissed. "Totoro is at least original!"

He stood as she pulled the disc form her computer and planted his fists on his hips, clearly offended. "Next you're gonna say Princess Mononoke is just anime Pocahontas!"

Silence.

"Really, Princess?" He now sounded less offended and more disappointed.

"What?" she responded, the disc now back in its case and back in Chat's claws. "Charismatic female lead aligned with the natives, antagonist destroying the land in search of a valuable mineral, male lead who bridges both worlds..."

He shook a finger at her. "Oh, I _know_ you're not comparing Ashitaka to friggin _John Smith_."

Chat began to lecture her on how Lady Eboshi was superior to Governor Radcliffe in every way, and Marinette plucked something off of her desk, though Chat couldn't see what it was. He paced her room, still ranting, and Marinette pointed the small device at her floor. A barely visible red line shot from the device and produced a glowing dot on her carpet. Chat stopped pacing, stopped ranting, and dropped his gaze to the floor. She swept the laser pointer to the side and his eyes followed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the dot.

"Changing the subject." Marinette giggled when he crouched down on all fours. "And seeing how much of a cat you really are."

"Princess, stop it." His eyes darted right. "Seriously, stop it!" Around in circles, then to the wall across form him. "It's... _mocking_ me... _no_!" He shook his head and sat on his hands. "Come on, Chat. You can do this. You're stronger than this." He turned his head away from the dot.

Marinette brought the dot right next to him and wiggled the pointer. No reaction. She moved it up onto his knee. She could see him bite his lips, sweat beginning to glisten on his cheeks, yet he still kept his eyes averted. She aimed the pointer at the far wall pressed the button once more. His eyes widened such that they may pop out of his head and locked onto the dot. The dot swayed back and forth before him. Left. Right.

"Mari I thought we were friends." Left. Right.

"We are," she smirked. "Cranky kitty seems like he needs some play time." Left. Right.

He spoke through gritted teeth. "Kitty is only cranky because a certain _Princess_ ," he almost spat the word, "dares to compare the genius of Hayao Miyazaki to _come here_!"

He pounced. His claws scratched at her wall yet didn't leave a mark. He chased the light under her desk, across her chaise, and beneath the ladder leading to her bed. He paused in the middle of the floor and swatted at the light, turning in circles as Marinette aimed the pointer just out of his reach. After a couple minutes of this, Chat lay on his back, out of breath, with Marinette leaning over him, a captivating feline grin on her face.

"See?" She sat down beside him and brought a hand up to scratch behind the leather ears atop his head. "Was it so bad to let your inner cat play for a while?"

"Y-you know, Princess," Chat stammered through his own grin, "I think you're right. I needed that."

Marinette tilted her head. "Why would you need to play?"

Chat lifted his head and opened his mouth to answer, closed it, then let his head fall back to the floor and sighed. "When...when I'm not wearing this mask, I have to deal with a lot of unrealistic expectations from my father. Everything is scheduled, everything is regimented. Controlled. Sometimes I feel like I can only have fun and do what I want when I'm Chat Noir. So," he looked up into Marinette's eyes, "I really appreciate you letting me visit. Other than Ladybug, you're really the only friend I have on this side of my life."

Marinette's heart warmed and soft tears pricked at her eyes. She leaned down, brushed his unruly hair aside, and placed a gentle kiss against his forehead. "You can come over and play anytime, chaton."

A crimson blush ignited his face. He smiled at her, Marinette, his friend, and breathed deep. He felt so at ease, so comfortable, so...welcome.

"You know, I have an empty box, if you want to sit in it."

His grin disappeared and he poked a finger into her face. "Don't tempt me."

They stared at each other for a moment, each daring the other to crack. Marinette broke first and laughed deep, but not too loud as to wake her parents. Chat soon joined her, laughing, smiling, and thanking the powers that be for giving the unluckiest cat in Paris a friend.


	3. Adrienette and DJWifi: Sleepover

The living room of the Dupain-Cheng household was bathed in darkness, illuminated only by whatever light shone from the television. Four teens, dressed in their pajamas, sat in that light in various positions: Alya face-down on a pile of blankets, Nino lounging on the couch, Adrien cross-legged and wrapped up in a Ladybug blanket, and Marinette stretched out propped up on her elbows.

"So, who gets to pick the next movie?" Nino asked from the couch.

Alya lifted her head at Nino's words, gave an inarticulate grunt, and dropped it back onto her pillow.

"Well, Alya's down for the count," Nino shrugged. He turned away from his girlfriend and addressed Marinette and Adrien. "You two still awake?"

Marinette was almost as far past the Dreamland border as Alya. She yet clung to consciousness, as she never knew when she would get to spend such quality time with Adrien again. She slapped herself, trying to work energy and life into her body. Maybe being the daughter of bakers wasn't such a good thing; constantly testing new cake and cookie batches had made her immune to the effects of sugar.

Adrien on the other hand...

Adrien smiled like an idiot and bounced on his sleeping bag, proving what everyone else already knew: model diet + excessive amounts of sugar = hyperactive cinnamon roll. He had already eaten almost a dozen macaroons, six chocolate ship cookies, split an entire tub of strawberry ice cream with Marinette, guzzled several liters of soda, and Nino couldn't remember the last time he had seen Adrien blink.

"I think it's Marinette's turn come on Mari!" He grabbed her by the shoulder and lightly shook her. "Pick a movie pick a movie if you don't pick a movie then I'll pick one..." and on and on.

"Alright, alright," she yawned, swatting his hand away. "I'll pick." She crawled over to the bookshelf containing her family's collection of movies and pushed herself up onto her knees. Her finger flicked against various titles until she settled on one of her personal favorites.

"Here we go: Wall-E."

"Oh! I've never seen that one what's it about?" Adrien rambled.

Marinette put her fist to her lips to hold in another yawn. "Wa- _haaaaah_ -watch it and see, you dork."

And watch it they did, though Nino's deep yawns about about halfway through the movie told Adrien and Marinette that he wasn't going to last much longer. He finally climbed down from the couch, moved over next to Alya, and threw an arm over her waist. She hummed when he planted a soft kiss on her cheek. It wasn't five minutes later that light snoring could be heard from him.

Marinette nodded off just before Captain McCrea faced off against Auto, resting her head against Adrien's shoulder, but Adrien stayed wide awake, captivated by the movie. When the film finally ended, he slipped as quietly and smoothly as he could from beneath Marinette and shut off the TV. Internally debating, he laid down on his sleeping bag and eased Marinette's sleeping form back against his shoulder, right where she had been for the last twenty minutes. She mumbled on about cookies in her purse, and Adrien swore he heard something about tiki torches, and she threw an arm across him, nuzzling her forehead against his chest. Adrien only smiled and relocated his arm around her.

Though he had settled in and the room was finally dark, Adrien couldn't sleep, and it wasn't from the sugar high that had since been burned out of his system. He kept thinking about the movie. A lonely, trashy little robot, falling in love with an angelic vision that had fallen from the sky. She largely ignored his advances, responding with varying degrees of indifference or annoyance, and focused entirely on her mission. But over time, Eve opened up to Wall-E's selflessness and sacrifice. In the end, they loved each other, as much as robots could love each other. The movie gave Adrien hope for his situation. Hope that one day Ladybug would be his Eve.

When sleep finally took him, he dreamed of his Lady resting her head against his chest, just like Marinette had.


	4. DJWifi: Excite

He doesn't know her real name.

All he knows is what she allows people to know. He knows she calls herself Lady Wifi. He knows long legs coated in black tights and ending in well worn sneakers. He knows the loose purple tank top emblazoned with a wifi symbol that glows pink beneath the blacklights. He knows the black grease paint smeared over her dazzling hazel eyes.

It's really no different from what people know about him. He is DJ Bubbler. He wears mostly black with a vest coated in random smears and streaks of primary color. He wears blue paint across his face to hide his identity, like everyone else in Club Miraculous, the largest underground (* _coughillegalcough_ *) dance club in Paris. Pseudonyms, costumes, alternate personas. Here, everyone can be someone else. Here, everyone can be free, free to dance to the beat Bubbler supplied.

And no one dances more beautifully than Lady Wifi.

The way her body seems made of putty, the way her joints respond and lock with mechanical precision. The way her hips sway, rhythmic, hypnotic. The way her feet glide across the floor. The way her face lights up when one of _her_ songs come up _._ And her songs come up often.

He doesn't know her real name.

But he does know her music.

He...well, 'stalk' is such a strong word... _follows_ her breakdancing blog, so he knows her favorite songs. She updates the list almost daily, and her tastes are so diverse, Bubbler can't help but be impressed. It seems she'll dance to almost anything, but she's taken a liking to J-pop lately. After weeks of adding some of her picks to his set, he knows how she reacts to each song. He knows what to play when she's in certain moods, what to play when she's dancing with her best friend, Ladybug, what to play when she's dancing alone.

What to play when she's sad or lonely.

Like tonight. Ladybug isn't here and Wifi sits at the bar, nursing a rum and cola, her drink of choice when trying to numb some kind of pain. Bubbler's heart hitches when she doesn't dance to the first song he plays for her. He bites his tongue when the second only makes her order another drink. He plays a few more, trying to coax her to the floor, but nothing.

Bubbler reaches into his vest and retrieves his phone. A few quick taps brings up her blog and he notices a new addition to the list, added earlier that evening. The phone returns to his vest and he turns to the laptop beside his tables. A few keystrokes brings him to the song he seeks. He downloads it, aware that he's more concerned with being caught in an illegal night club than being caught illegally downloading music, and sets it up next on his playlist.

The moment it starts, her head perks up. Bubbler quirks his brow. It was rare for her to favorite electronica. She pounds back the last of her drink and swings off of her stool. The entire club is shaken by the abrupt change-up in the music, but the surprise is quickly forgotten the moment Lady Wifi's sneakers hit the dance floor. Her dance is fluid, but her body jerks and pops with the percussion. Her arms twine around her like serpents, and when the tempo spikes, her legs become a blur. He doesn't know how often she's listened to this song, but she knows every beat, every tempo change, every syncopated rhythm, and it's the most captivating thing Bubbler has ever seen.

Lady Wifi raises a triumphant fist over her head once the song ends. The crowd cheers. Bubbler grins. There she is. There's his Lady.

She pushes her way through the crowd and saunters over to the DJ tables, something she's never done before. He tries to busy himself with putting on the next track, something more to the crowd's tastes, but he can't avoid her alluring gaze forever.

"Uh, c-come to make a request, W-Wifi?" he stammers, mentally slapping himself. There's a reason he lets the music talk for him.

"Sounds like I don't have to, Bubbles." She flashes him a teasing grin. "You think I don't know my own playlist?"

She caught him. He rubs a bashful hands across his bristly hair and confesses, "You just...seemed so down. I wanted to cheer you up, get you to dance."

Her face falls in shock, and, though it's hard to make out in the strobing lights, he could swear she's blushing. Then, she smiles. No swagger, no teasing, she just genuinely smiles at him. "Thanks, Bubbles." She leans against his tables and shrugs. "Boyfriend broke up with me today. Didn't really care for the Wifi side of my life, so the jackass dumped me."

"His loss."

The blush returns. She turns away from the tables for just a moment until she spots Illustrator walking past. Without him noticing, she plucks out one of the numerous pens stuck in his tomato-red bun and snatches Bubbler's hand. The DJ can't make out what she's scribbling, but when she finally releases him, he can see a set of numbers scrawled out on the back of his hand.

"Call me sometime." She strides back out to the floor, but not before shooting him a short wave over her shoulder and smirking at him. "Later, Bubbles."

Bubbler gazes out at the beautiful vision who has returned to dancing and curses whoever would dare to let someone with so much fire, heart, and soul go. A true fool, to be sure. He quickly copies the digits from his hand onto a napkin before the sweat of the night can smear them, and stuffs the treasure into his pocket with a smile.

He doesn't know her real name.

But he knows her number.


End file.
